His Demon: Transmuted
by EEstelle
Summary: Equivalent exchange and revenge. How different are they really? Ciel Phantomhive attempted human transmutation to resurrect his father, but the Truth has a more tempting offer in mind... One-shot. Better description inside.


**A/N:** Hello! Just to preface this story so it's not as confusing as it might otherwise be, this one-shot follows the premise that a few generations after the Elric brothers lived, some of their alchemy books were found by Ciel Phantomhive in the aftermath of his parents' deaths. Much like the Elrics, he committed human transmutation to try and resurrect his parents, specifically his father. The story picks up in the moment when he realizes that he, like the Elrics, has failed as he sees the creature that was supposed to be Vincent but isn't. He is then taken to see the Truth, but the Truth throws a slight twist into the outcomes of human transmutation that you've heard about...

 **His Demon: Transmuted**

" _Truth, like beauty, is in the eyes of the beholder."_

 _-Michelle Sagara_

The abomination was melted tar with brittle bones; heaving, crackling, and hissing smoke into the sweltering air. He was blood and black, and a list of chemical things, and a charred shadow of what a father was supposed to be. In the center of the library of the Phantomhive estate, limbs flailing in a circle drawn on the burnt remnants of the floor, the creature that was not Vincent Phantomhive shuddered as he reached for the earl's twelve-year-old son.

The boy cried out as something clawed at his eyelids, ripping through his body as though trying to extricate his insides. He screamed, blue eyes flashing in terror as the imposter vanished, before he was dragged by disembodied hands into darkness.

It was so wrong, thought the boy, watching his breath flee his lungs and fall away like shards of glass, his skin tingling excruciatingly as it was destroyed and reformed. He'd read the warnings, and knew where he was going, but he'd thought he'd accounted for all that. On the front page of every book he had opened as he'd searched through the carnage of his family home, Ciel Phantomhive had read the words: _Human Transmutation is strictly forbidden_. But he had ignored them. What did the foreign alchemists know, anyway? Now, it was too late, and deep down he realized he had been wrong. There was no way for him to avoid this journey to the place reserved for those who'd breached the contract between life and death: the Truth.

In the moment that Ciel thought he would pass out from the pain, a searing white light appeared in the distance, tunneling towards him until he was completely consumed. He hadn't registered the whirring in his ears until it cut off abruptly, leaving him in a silent, empty room.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, neither cold nor hot, neither awake nor sleeping, but staring at a figure ringed in smoke on the far side of the expanse. The figure, which had no substance of itself, seemed to be staring back at him through its non-existent eyes.

Despite his research and innumerable hours of reading the Amestrian accounts contained in his father's books, none of his information had prepared Ciel for this. The figure stood, probably anticipating the age-old question: _Who are you?_ But the words never came. Was this the entity that the ancients had feared and reverenced, with its infinite knowledge, wisdom, and power? Though there was nothing remotely funny about his current situation, the boy laughed humorlessly.

The figure quirked its head, studying him with interest until the noise faded out. When it realized the boy had no intention of speaking, it quipped, "For such a small child, you're rather sure of yourself. Don't you want to know who I am, young lord?"

"I know who you are," said Ciel dryly. This must be a joke. "I just don't see a reason to fuss over it."

"So calloused already," the figure grinned, unaffected by his rudeness. "Are you here because you want daddy back, or did you come to visit me?"

"...I want my father." The boy's gaze hardened, but he refused to look away although it taunted him. "Where is he?"

"Ah, so you did come for understanding. Let's give the boy what he wants, shall we?" it said to no one in particular, its smile widening. "You want the Truth, you've got me."

Until that moment, Ciel had thought the room vacant aside from the figure and himself, but at its words, he felt something tug him from behind. The same bodiless arms that had brought him raked at his skin, dragging him through a high-arching stone doorway while the figure waved in farewell. He lost all sense of direction as the door rumbled shut, the arms flinging him through the void with no rhyme nor reason, while bright images unspooled around him in a pure stream of information. It was so swift, so loud, bright and sharp that he thought he would burn, beginning with his mind until he was less than a spark to be snuffed out by the wind. Without meaning to, Ciel began screaming at the Truth until he had no voice. Only when the light began to dim around him did he reappear in the white room.

"You didn't really want the Truth, did you, little human?" said the figure, taking a step. "You already knew your father wasn't coming back, and now you'll lose your eyesight, too. Didn't the books tell you; you remember, the ones about me?" he coaxed. "Didn't the Elric brothers' tale teach you the law of equivalent exchange?"

The boy panted, although his breath had already returned. He gasped for air with the lungs he'd left inside his real body rather than this false one, struggling to focus as he hunched on the floor so far away from himself. The white room was fading, first to gray and then to black, until all he saw was midnight. Gradually, he realized that it wasn't the luminosity that was receding, or his surroundings. His eyes were the ones that had failed him. Seeing the Truth had rendered him blind.

"No. I didn't want the Truth," he spat, though he doubted his honesty would make a difference. He fought to keep his voice from revealing the frustration he felt.

"I watched the fire consume him and my mother. No one returns from that. But I see you have a sense of irony, _sir_ ," he mocked as he cast around for a way to regain control, the thought dawning on him. "Equivalent exchange- an eye for an eye makes the world blind."

"Very good, young alchemist," said the Truth appreciatively. It folded its arms across its chest, observing him wryly as it decided what to do with him next. Coming to a conclusion it apparently enjoyed, it chuckled. "I think you're ready to meet our friend."

"What?" Ciel startled, sounding surprised for the first time. Though the books had all spoken of the formless entity that crooned to him from the void, they had never mentioned anyone else in this godforsaken realm.

"Why, _our friend_ , of course," it repeated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The creature I returned to you when you created this door. You humans usually forget this part; almost no one makes the deal, and then they are taught to forget. They realize what they've done and they don't want any part of me anymore."

"What… what do you mean?" the boy stuttered, afraid he already knew. With the blank black slate placed over his eyes, it was almost too easy to picture the humanesque monster lying in the transmutation circle he'd drawn back home.

"Equivalent exchange," it reiterated patiently. "The creature you transmuted isn't your father, but it's yours all the same. For a door to be constructed here, something else of value had to be sent to your side of the gate. It's only fair."

"You mean… that _thing_ …" Ciel crinkled his nose in repulsion, rising slowly to his feet. "It's… it's human?"

"No, not entirely. It doesn't possess a soul, but you made it with all of the necessary ingredients for life. It's a demon, child. The darkest magnum opus of mankind. I'll let you see him, but just for a moment, mind you," the Truth chided, as if it were offering the boy a special treat as long as he behaved. "Unless you come to an agreement, of course. I'm sure he'd like that."

It took Ciel a moment to realize that he could see again, for even though his eyes were opened, the once-white room was currently saturated with heavy darkness.

"My, my, what a strange creature he is," said a deep, sultry voice whose owner could not be seen through the haze. Ciel's ears fought to locate the source of the sound, his breath catching in his chest. By straining his pupils, he could just distinguish a pair of scarlet orbs, glowing amidst the storm of blue-black raven feathers.

"He's a feisty one, I'll give you that," replied the Truth, grinning at the newcomer. "But I think you have a better chance of striking a deal with him than your eldest brothers and sisters have had."

"Why do you say so, wise master?" the demon inquired, something curved and sharp glimmering beneath the faint shine radiating from the entity's outline. The Truth smirked.

"He doesn't want the Truth and he doesn't want the Earl Phantomhive, whatever he claims. The child wants revenge, and the little pleasures that go with it."

"How interesting," said the demon quietly, licking his upper lip as his orbs flitted through the darkness to meet the child's frozen ones. There was something tantalizing about the way a human soul made its mark on a hollow space, and this human's aroma was particularly bitter. One part hatred, one part apathy, one part fear… one part hunger. Delicious. Though he had been summoned to the mortal world on various occasions, the creature had never encountered an aura quite like this.

"What say you, my lord?" the demon crooned after a moment's scrutiny. "Revenge is a meager reward in exchange for one's soul and a lifetime of misery. Think carefully, for once the gates have closed, there will be no possibility of return."

 _What was that supposed to mean?_ Thought Ciel, waiting for comprehension to seep into his brain. _Revenge in exchange for a soul._ His _soul. A deal with a demon. How..._ interesting.

The boy considered asking for clarification, but to do so would be an insult to the Truth, this demon, and his own intelligence. They'd made their meaning quite plain, although the turn of events was unexpected.

"I have come too far to turn back now," he said adamantly, meeting the red-eyed gaze. "But I would inquire as to the details. What exactly are you offering?"

The Truth chuckled, but the demon paid it no mind, though he smiled softly at the child. Ciel braced himself for an argument, accustomed to adults second-guessing his judgement, but the creature seemed to take him at his word.

"I am willing to obey your wishes until such time as your parent's murders are avenged, my lord. In payment, I ask only that when the deed is done, your soul becomes mine to consume. I promise to be gentle."

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Ciel nodded.

"What is a soul as deadened as mine? I won't ask why you want it. I never assumed my path would be easy." His face contorted as he made his resolve. "Do as you see fit, but bring me my revenge!"

"Ah ha!" the Truth chortled, his eyeless attention shifting from old friend to glaring alchemist with unabashed glee. As Ciel's declaration reverberated around them, the sound rebounded against the door, causing the rock to shake. The stone swirled, as if the hard surface had turned molten, though it remained a steely gray. Ciel tripped over his own feet in his hurry to locate the disturbance, but was saved from injury by the feathery storm that caught him as he turned around.

As suddenly as it had begun, the stone stopped rumbling, and was still again. But carved along its surface were strange images and writings that only the Truth could hope to understand.

The Truth scanned the door's handiwork, conveying his approval with a small bow in its direction, then faced the demon. The feathers, which had seemed to have lives all their own, drifted limply to the ground. The shadows shifted, and within them, a lithe figure that had not been there before bowed his head. When the room once again shone a pearly white, the boy and the Truth were accompanied by a tall, stately man.

Clothed in a tailored suit-coat with pristine white gloves and polished black shoes, the demon was unrecognizable as the smoking, bloodied, tar-like creature that had risen from the transmutation circle in the Phantomhive home. Now bearing eyes of sparkling sherry, with pale skin and sleek obsidian hair that spilled gracefully past his cheek bones, the creature could have passed for a handsome nobleman rather than the nightmare that the three of them knew he truly was. Ciel felt a pang as he stared at him, for the man bore a striking resemblance to the father he had attempted to resurrect, although not enough to cause suspicion for anyone who hadn't known the earl well.

"Is this form satisfactory, my lord?" said the demon-man, his eyes temporarily reverting to their previous state. When Ciel didn't respond, the Truth interjected.

"Yes, little alchemist. In order to fulfill your request, a demon must don a fitting disguise. You are the Earl Phantomhive now, unless I'm mistaken; but I'm not. This should give him just the right amount of access to your affairs without drawing unwanted publicity."

"Such was my intention," the demon assented, angling his head to each of them in turn. A sly smile piqued at his lips as he held up his left hand. "I make one _hell_ of a butler, after all."

In one fluid motion, the demon removed the glove with his teeth, beneath which long black fingernails bled down to a curious circular seal.

"You recognize it, don't you, Phantomhive?" mused the Truth, watching Ciel's expression avidly.

"No… not this particular symbol, but…"

"I believe you call it a transmutation circle, my lord," the demon supplied, his footfalls echoing as he stepped forward. "But it is also the mark of my servitude, shared by a demon and his master."

By the time he finished speaking, he was standing so closely that he and the child would have been nose to nose were the demon not considerably taller. He kneeled on one knee, and in the reflective depths of his orbs, Ciel understood what he meant when he saw the mirror image of himself. In the image, his left eye stared at the demon with bright blue mistrust, but his right eye gleamed violet, bearing the same circular crest inscribed with a star.

"As long as you live, this mark will bind me to you. It will delay the effects of equivalent exchange, so for the time being, you may keep your sight. I am sworn to obey your orders from this moment forth, until the promised day when your soul falls to me." The demon bowed. "My lord."

The Truth chuckled as a whirring noise rose in Ciel Phantomhive's ears, drowning out whatever screams he may have wanted to emit as the dragging, raking, black and shadowed hands reached out to escort him home. The white room vanished, and he awoke bruised and breathless on the library floor.

XXX

Ciel christened him Sebastian, for the demon had no title and he could hardly continue addressing him as the atrocity he was. Once he'd added a familiar name to an ordinary face, the boy found he could almost forget his first horrifying glimpse of the creature, which now looked so human striding beneath the summer sun. It was a quiet afternoon on the grounds of the reconstructed Phantomhive estate, and even the staff- which had been appointed for their military prowess rather than their housekeeping skills- had managed to stay out of trouble that day. Glancing over his shoulder at Sebastian, who walked gracefully behind him, he waved the butler back to the house so he could spend a few moments alone.

Though the notion of alchemy had seemed so appealing when he'd first found the charred books buried in the wreckage, Ciel had thought little about it in the weeks and months since he'd tried to resurrect his parents. He assumed Sebastian had refurbished the library as well as the rest of the manor, but he hadn't bothered to check. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Beneath an eyepatch which concealed both a seeing eye and a startling truth, he imagined the acrid smell of not-Vincent's corpse, surrounded by the broken bottles containing the ingredients for the mother he would never bring back to life. After glimpsing his father within the monster- the _demon_ \- he had to admit he had no desire to see a similar abomination wearing the face of his mom. Which reminded him...

 _The Elric brothers must have been fools_ , he thought, strolling past a gnarled tree which granted him a moment's reprieve from the harsh light. They hadn't dared to make the sacrifice that he had made although they had committed the ultimate taboo when they were even younger than himself. Instead, they'd kept their souls, settling for metal replacement parts and suffering for the mere pleasure of reclaiming the bodies they'd lost. Yes, they'd attained what they'd wanted in the end, though one brother was weak and one never regained his leg. But after all they had been through, they were really no better off for the pain they had experienced.

If they were afraid to do what was necessary, he wondered, why had they performed human transmutation in the first place? He supposed they had no one to blame for their mother's death but nature, for her passing had been in accordance with universal law: birth, life, degradation. Whereas his parents' journey had been cut off in the middle of it all. He supposed it was easier for them to accept the inarguable supremacy of time than it had been for him, but where was the justice in that? Where was the equivalent exchange? Nothing had been given to them to make up for the theft of Trisha Elric, and the pursuit nearly destroyed everything they had left. Nothing had been given to him when his mother and father had died, either, unless one counted this agony and insatiable rage.

If that was the case, and these feelings were his compensation for their loss, it would be an insult to his parents' memory to ignore them. Though the Elrics might have made peace with their fates and found forgiveness within their hearts, they were weak, like most children. From where Ciel stood, looking down on a fallen world for which he felt no pity, it would be an unpardonable sin not to act and punish the ones responsible.

He could hear the Truth's laughter as he rounded another bend, the estate looming above him in a radiant image of glass and stone. Somewhere nearby and far away, he could sense its amusement when it listened to his thoughts, quipping, "So you finally understand equivalent exchange, young alchemist. An eye for an eye does have a nice flavor to it, doesn't it?"

The boy stopped, one foot behind him and and one ahead, sighing as he peered up at the sky, then turned his back once more. In the sweltering heat, the mud on the road clung to his shoes, reaching out of the earth to ensnare him and drag him home. Though a deep voice called to him over the humid breeze, warning him that his guests were arriving for tea and an afternoon of business, he deliberately ignored it. He had something he needed to do, out on the edge of the property where an iron gate and two carved headstones stood waiting, protecting the corpses whose souls drifted someplace where his soul would never go.

That was the sacrifice he had made and he didn't regret it, he thought, staring down as the shade consumed his shadow. But he would allow himself a moment of silence in which to miss them, for although he would keep his promise, he was only human, after all. But soon… _No_ , he refused, closing his eyes for the present. That could wait. Truthfully, Ciel Phantomhive wasn't quite ready to face the demon that smiled at him from the end of the road.

 **A/N:** Okay, so it's kinda weird. Hope you enjoyed it anyway, and thank you for reading! If you have any questions/suggestions/critiques/requests, I would love to hear from you. I actually wrote this awhile ago and I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but I guess that's the curse of the writer. :) Anyway, thanks again, and hope you have a wonderful day! And for those of you reading it in the next few weeks, Merry Christmas! :)


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